celestial bodies (post the age of discovery)

and then you ask me if
i know how to make
a compass.

i close my eyes, wrap my locks into a tight braid and dive deep;

into the oblivion. into the unknown and the even lesser known than that we have been shown to map as true.

i have reached one thousand miles one hundred times over since 1300
and i am seeing seaweed in this bowl.

i have lost the needle i sold my tail for and they don't make corks like they used to.


and then you talk to me of the reversals and of (perchance) ten thousand years
and i imagine me
and you
moving around the
earth
in a mirrored synchronicity